In the Bluff City, there’s no shortage of locally brewed cold ones in the beer dating pool. With a slew of local breweries, Memphians have their pick of American-style lagers to dance with. But who can forget their first love? Known simply as the original Memphis lager, Goldcrest 51 was created in 1936 by the Tennessee Brewery to honor 51 years of operation. The beer remained a top seller until the brewery closed in 1954.
But in February 2024, Jake Schorr (owner of Westy’s and great-grandson of John Wolfgang Schorr, who founded Tennessee Brewing Company in 1885) and Souls & Spirits brewmaster Ryan Allen hit Goldcrest 51 with the “U up?” text. Why bring back one of the top-selling beers in Memphis history? My guess: Nothing tastes better than nostalgia.
Beer is in our culture. It’s in our music. It’s in our refrigerators next to the eggs, butter, and whatever that leftover food is in the Cool Whip tub. The most popular style of suds in America is unquestionably the American lager.
As Americans, we love apple pie, baseball, pickup trucks, and using pyrotechnics (with the occasional lost finger). But nothing is as American as beer. While apple pie has contributed to bigger waists since 1697, beer has provided liquid courage as far back as 1587.
In 1620, the Mayflower stopped at Cape Cod because, as one can only assume, one of the pilgrims yelled, “Hey y’all, we’re out of beer and there ain’t no 24-hour 7-11 open for at least another 350 years.” And one of the earliest concerns for Harvard College was constructing a brew house in 1636, centuries before hollow balls bounced off tables into red 16-ounce solo cups in the dorm rooms of our American higher education institutions.
The Colonial-era English-style suds were murky brown, top-fermented ales with smoky caramel or fruity profiles, served toasty and thermal. These beers were often bitter, brewed at home with wild hops, molasses, and unique local ingredients like spruce tips or pumpkin due to the lack of local malt.
Fast-forward to the mid-19th century. German immigrants flooded Cincinnati, Milwaukee, and St. Louis, an area that would become known as the German Triangle. Germans introduced America to bratwurst, kindergarten, and fahrvergnügen. (Back then, if you asked any old Joesf Schmosf his opinion on the warm, English-style ale, he’d probably say something like, “Dieses bier taste like Schmidt.”)
Before “pass me a cold one” became popular in American dialogue, German immigrants had a palate for ice-cold beer. Back home, the Deutschland brews were stockpiled in cold caves in summer. (Lager is a German word meaning “to store.”) Two-row barley, standard in Germany, did not thrive in the U.S., so they improvised and used six-row barley. Its enzyme content could convert larger amounts of American adjunct grains like corn and rice. The settlers adapted their traditional methods to produce crisp, refreshing American lagers. (Beer … finds a way.)
The popularity of the American-style lager helped propel legendary breweries like Schlitz and Pabst in the late 1890s. Nearly a century later, Miller introduced the “diet” beer with Miller Lite in 1975. Then came Coors Light in ’78 and Bud Light in ’82. The launch of the “light beer wars” gave us catchphrases: “Tastes great. Less filling.” It chilled us out when worried if our beer was cold enough to drink (look for the blue mountains). It convinced men that Spuds MacKenzie hooked up with more women on his way to the fire hydrant than most men do all year.
It’s been more than two years since the Memphis and Goldcrest 51 romance reignited, and it’s still solid. When you drink Memphis’ original lager, you’re just not tasting cracker malts, sweet corn, or subtle spices, you’re tasting Memphis history. And you’re tasting American history.
A staple in the U.S. for generations, no matter what you call it — brewski, a cold one, golden nectar — it’s more American than apple pie. Like Andy Dufresne told Captain Hadley, “I think a man working outdoors feels more like a man with a bottle of suds in his hand.”
Buddy Jones is a longtime Memphis bartender and comedian who hosts a weekly comedy night at Peoples on Beale.